


sickeningly sweet like honey, don't need money

by eversall



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cliches Galore, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Charles/Erik, hooray for cliche things, how many cliches can i fit in one fic without vomiting basically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-18
Updated: 2015-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-07 09:49:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5452319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eversall/pseuds/eversall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Help me.” Hank wails. “I think I just spent two-hundred dollars on groceries for a family of four.”<br/>“Four?” Alex looks up sharply. “Where did we get an extra kid from?”<br/>“Condom broke?” Hank offers weakly. From the next table over, Raven and Sean laugh at them. “Um, when I spun the wheel of misfortune, we got another kid.”<br/>.<br/>Five times Hank and Alex go through cliche scenarios as friends pining after each other, and five times they go through those scenarios in <em> love </em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sickeningly sweet like honey, don't need money

**Author's Note:**

> sorry I can't hear your complaining over the cliches I'm drowning in. 
> 
> title from for him. by troye sivan (ft. allday). which is a song I'm listening to on repeat right now so why don't you do it too??????

_i. the baby project_

“Oh my god,” Alex says first thing in the morning when he sees Hank, “what did Max do to you?” Hank has bags under his eyes and the sheer exhaustion radiating from him is enough to make _Alex_ want to crawl into bed and never get up. In his hands is the blue plastic baby that Alex had named Max when they’d gotten it yesterday.

“Max has been a perfect little demon.” Hank says, grinning a little maniacally as he hands Max off. “But he should be fine tonight.”

Alex watches him leave, a little apprehensive, a little turned on by that ass.

.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Alex yells at Hank the next morning, “what did _you_ do to _Max_?” Hank blinks at him owlishly, his demeanor back to normal after a good night’s sleep.

“Modified him.” Hank says, a little smugly, the rat bastard.

“Our baby literally hasn’t made a single noise in the last twenty-four hours.” Alex shrieks indignantly.

“Funny, he couldn’t _stop_ making noise for twenty-four hours before that.” Hank says darkly. Alex feels like hitting him with something. Maybe his fist.

“Max is a _baby._ ” He settles for seething instead. “Babies are _fussy_ ; you can’t just reprogram them whenever you feel like it.” He’s not sure why he feels so protective over this, but it definitely has to do with the two little brothers sitting at home that he practically raised after their parents died.

Hank raises an eyebrow. “You want me to change him back to the wailing, terrifying mess he was before?”

“Yes.” Alex says, glaring darkly. “But program an A for us too.” Hank outright laughs at that and Alex continues to scowl mutinously. Just because he believes in authenticity doesn’t mean he isn’t fully aware of the benefits of having a bio partner that can _program_ their fake baby.

.

 

_ii. the bills simulation_

“Help me.” Hank wails. “I think I just spent two-hundred dollars on groceries for a family of four.”

“ _Four_?” Alex looks up sharply. “Where did we get an extra kid from?”

“Condom broke?” Hank offers weakly. From the next table over, Raven and Sean laugh at them. “Um, when I spun the wheel of misfortune, we got another kid.”

“I didn’t even know a kid was an option on that.” Alex breathes out, sighing. He stares down at their sheet. “We can’t live in our shoebox with _two_ of them.”

“Is it a little offensive that there’s _kids_ on the wheel of misfortune?” Angel, surprisingly, demands of their teacher, who smiles gleefully.

“The wheel of misfortune contains all the expenses in life we don’t plan for, like, say, a car crash or a baby.” Ms. McTaggert says, chuckling.

“Yes, but Alex and I would be a _gay_ couple.” Hank says, frustrated. Even though it’s a fake relationship and fake bills, Alex can’t stop the stupidly giddy feeling that shoots through him when he hears this. “How would an unplanned baby show up? Adoption agencies don’t exactly dump babies on gay doorsteps.”

“I don’t think the _doorstep_ can be called gay.” Alex muses, and Hank shoots him a glare.

“Think of it this way.” Raven says, waving from where she and Sean are cheerfully burning through all their money by putting it into “recreational use of marijuana”. “Sean and I have a baby and leave it on your flamingly homosexual steps.”

“I’ll give it to Darwin.” Alex says immediately. “Darwin, you seem like the type. Here, your wheel of misfortune has gifted you.”

“Stop giving away our babies.” Hank hisses at him. “Get yourself a promotion and move us into a better house so our kids can grow up with yards to play in.” Alex throws his hands up in the air.

“You’re the genius here, Hank, why did you select ‘elementary school science teacher’ as your profession? We _both_ know that when we get married you’ll be the scientist with heaps of money. In fact, I think I’m moving us to the nice side of town. Bye suckers.” He waves cheerfully at Angel and Darwin and picks up the paper with their housing bill, preparing to give them a nicer house. Maybe a mansion.

After a few seconds, he feels Hank staring at him, and looks up to see those impossibly bright eyes laughing at him. Not – not maliciously, but almost _adoringly_.

“What?” Alex asks cautiously.

“Nothing.” Hank says, still smiling. “Let me see our grocery expenses again.”

Later, it occurs to Alex that he said _when_ they got married, not _if_.

.

 

 _iii_. _ballroom dancing_

“There’s definitely something about this that isn’t right.” Alex says, squinting up at Hank. Since they’re at a _progressive_ high school, dancing classes every other week fill up their schedule. It was either this, or yoga, and Alex isn’t about to spend an hour every other week staring at Hank’s ass in yoga pants, irrevocably ruining their friendship.

“Two guys dancing has long since been accepted, Alex.” Hank says, rolling his eyes.

“Bozo, why would I care about that? Would be a bit hypocritical, am I right?” Alex asks as he watches his own feet moving. “God damn it, can you feel it? We’re not moving _right_.” Alex takes his dancing seriously as fuck.

He looks up to see Hank unusually flushed, but chalks it down to exertion as the answer to his problem suddenly becomes clear.

“You’re letting me lead.” He realizes. Hank looks down at him with impossibly large, worried eyes. “Hank, you lead. Your feet are way huger, you’re taller – it’ll go more smoothly if you lead.” Alex doesn’t mention that he _wants_ Hank to lead, he wants him to be more confident in his steps, not just – not just falling over himself everywhere, trying to make himself become invisible. It was hard enough for their little ragtag group of friends to coax him out of his shell enough for Hank to trust them.

“Are you sure?” Hank asks.

“Yeah, bigfeet,” Alex says, smiling fondly to soften the crude remark, “lead the way.”

Hank changes smoothly, and from one second to the next they’re _dancing_. Alex has seen all the shit, okay, he’s watched _Love Actually_ and read through the teen magazines with Angel and even checked out the Agony Aunt column sometimes but – but nobody’s ever told him it would feel like this when he met the right person, that the floor and the ceiling and the sky and the stars would all fall away and it would be just the two of them flying around the room, his heart beating wildly in his chest as he drinks in the lines of Hanks face like a starving man.

Nobody ever told him that all those stupid romantic clichés – went around for a reason. From the sidelines, he’s aware his friends are all cooing at them as he and Hank waltz past, but for just a few minutes, until the music ends – Hank is all his.

 

_iv. promposals_

“Uh.” Hank says as he opens his locker to copious amounts of glitter, confetti, and balloons. A sign that proclaims him to be ‘the most gorgeous girl in New York, the state’ also pops out, asking him to prom.

“Oh my god.” Alex mutters from where he’s watching the debacle unfold a good ten lockers away. “Is it bad that I’m a little jealous that someone else is asking him? Even though it’s not him they’re asking?”

Raven, who has the locker next to him, just slaps him upside the head and gives him a _look_ , which he takes to interpret means _yes, it’s worse than bad, it’s a fucking disaster is what it is_.

Emma Frost, the cheerleader who has the locker next to Hanks’, looks disdainfully at the display.

“Really?” she asks no one in particular. “I’m so sorry, Hank.”

“I think I’m sorrier for you.” Hank says with wide eyes, dusting glitter off of himself. Alex could tell him it’s no use, that he’s making a bigger mess of it, or he could continue to watch Henry McCoy’s long fingers. No competition, really.

.

“Once is a coincidence, twice is a pattern.” Hank says the second time it happens. This time, Alex is right next to him, and receives a head full of glitter as well.

“Excellent.” Alex drawls. “I’ll just cancel that haircut I was supposed to get, I think this style suits me much better.” Hank looks down at Alex with a faint smile.

“Yeah.” The taller boy says, “The glitter really brings out those baby blues.”

“Oh my _god_.” Emma Frost says again to no one in particular.

“I have got to ask,” Hank says, “are you dating the people who are dumb enough to put these together?”

“The idea that you would think I’d lower myself to that is offensive.” She sniffs while Alex roars with laughter.

.

“Three times is just idiotic.” Hank says, two days later. Now he’s just glaring at the locker. “I’m moving my locker to Canada.”

“Surprisingly, I don’t think it’ll work.” Alex says, sneezing as he’s once again enveloped in a cloud of glitter. This time, the guy’s gotten creative with singing teddy bears. “I dunno, Hank, put a nasty surprise in there for the next person that tries this.”

Hank gets a glint in his eyes that Alex doesn’t like. It’s the same glint he got when he handed Alex their fake-baby, all deprogrammed and silent.

By lunch the next day, the school is abuzz with the face that Sebastian Shaw looks like a walking paint palette. Hank is chortling to himself over his sandwich, and Alex wants to kiss those pink lips until Hank can’t think straight.

“Dear God.” Sean says, finally coming down from his high. “Did a paintbrush transfer to our school?” He sounds like he genuinely expects a _yes_.

.

 

_v. college roommmates_

Hank is in his bed. _Hank is in his bed_.

“Holy mother of God.” Alex whispers to himself. Going to college with Hank, _rooming_ with Hank, had never even seemed remotely possible to him, but with his football scholarship and Hank’s genius grant, they have, somehow, ended up in this situation. The situation being that Alex had come back from practice to find Hank curled up in Alex’s blankets, and if Alex didn’t feel possessive of Hank before he feels downright _protective_ now.

“Alex?” Hank mumbles sleepily, shifting. “Hi, you’re back.”

“Yeah sleeping beauty.” Alex grins as he tosses his sports gear in the corner and sits in his chair. “Had a nice nap?” Hank sits up, disoriented.

“I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.” Hank says. “I was going to order takeout for both of us, but I guess I was too tired when I came back from the labs.” Alex frowns disapprovingly, because he’s _seen_ Hank’s lab and he’s pretty sure the coffee machine is the most loved device in there. In fact, he thinks some of Hank’s interns have set up a sort of shrine around it.

“Lay off the coffee, bozo.” He says, opening his drawer and rooting around for the Thai takeout menus they keep around.

“Can’t.” Hank says mournfully. “Coffee is my one true soul mate, my long lost love, the Erik to my Charles-“

“-the what to your what now?” Alex asks, looking up from his phone.

“You know, Raven’s older brother? He teaches here?” Hank asks, smiling. “Yeah, he and Erik are a thing now.”

“Like, Erik Lensherr Erik? Football coach, the one that looks like he has the KGB on speed dial-“

“-don’t be racist-“

“-he and _Professor Charles_ are shacking up?” Alex asks indignantly. The prof teaches Alex’s freshman genetics class, and runs the lab jointly with Hank. He’s witty, wickedly charming, and wears _sweater vests_. Put him and Hank together and it’s a nerd fest, with both of them talking animatedly over each other. (Alex will never admit it, but seeing Hank light up with enthusiasm about his research is – is adorable and exhilarating to watch, so maybe he doesn’t hate those sweater vests _that much_ , okay.)

But sweet, sweet Charles with Coach Erik, who likes the motto “hit first, ask later” – god, that’s just scary, okay.

“Don’t look so horrified.” Hank says, laughing at the look on Alex’s face. “They’re good for each other.”

“I just have a healthy fear of the man.” Alex says with as much dignity as he can.

.

 

_vi. actual roommates_

“I can’t believe I’m _still_ going to live with you.” Hank muses as he and Alex search for apartments together at a coffee shop. They’re both graduating in a few months, and have found jobs near each other. Logically, it makes _sense_ to live together – but Alex isn’t sure he can take this any longer.

“Listen.” He says. “I don’t actually think this is a good idea.” He warily watches Hank’s face go blank.

“What?” Hank says, his voice small.

“It’s just-“ Alex says, faltering and hoping that he hasn’t been reading the signs wrong for the past _six years_ oh god, but he’s been in love with Henry McCoy for too long, “-it’s just, I always thought that if we were moving in together, it would be because – because you felt the same way I did, and we dated, and then I asked you in some really amazing way, and it would be the natural step in our relationship-“

“So you…do want to live with me.” Hank says, confusion in his voice and hope in his eyes. Alex passes a hand over his eyes because he’s _not making any sense_.

“I love you.” He says firmly. “I have for a long time. And if we’re moving in, I want it to be because you’re in love with me too.” Oh hell, Alex thinks, all or nothing.

Hank smiles, smiles helplessly and it’s cheesy as fuck but it lights up the whole room and Alex can’t help but grin back.

“Well then, it’s a good thing we are moving in together.” Hank says, bringing his hand up to twine his fingers with Alex’s on the table. A giddy sensation starts in Alex’s stomach and he bites his lip. Hank smiles shyly at him. “I love you too, Alex, I didn’t – I didn’t think you’d feel the same way.”

“You idiot.” Alex says, finally giving in and laughing. “I read _science magazines_ for you!”

.

 

_vii. actual proposals_

“Hey, fuck, I’m sorry I’m late we got an awful customer who – uh, what?” Alex says intelligently as he skids to a stop on the deck of the patio in their backyard. Muted fairy lights crisscross across their yard, casting a soft glow on the dozens and dozens of videos of Hank and him that are being projected on the surrounding spaces. He watches the two of them laugh a dozen times over in a daze, noting Hank standing in the middle, dressed in a suit that clings to him and makes Alex want to ravish him right there.

“Hi.” Hank says, smiling. He’s got his hands tucking in his pockets, and Alex is struck dumb by the love of his life all over again.

“Hi.” He says back, horribly aware that he’s still in his leather jacket and he still has oil grease on his hands.

“Wanna come over here?” Hank asks, his eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, I do – I will – I just – “ Alex says dazedly, somehow migrating to stand in front of Hank. “Oh god, this is happening. This is real.” He murmurs.

Hank clears his throat and drops to one knee, a blush staining his cheeks. His hands, where they come to grasp Alex’s trembling ones, are steady.

“Alex Summers,” he says quietly but determinedly, “you light up my world. You make me a better person. I can’t imagine a day without you by my side. You mean the world to me – you are my world – so will you marry me?”

Alex doesn’t hesitate.

“ _Yes_.” He breathes out, dropping to his knees and yanking Hank forward in a bruising kiss. Hank makes a surprised noise before he wraps his long arms around them and steadies them, pushing deeper into the kiss and knotting his fingers in Alex’s hair.

It takes them forever to come up for air, and when they do Hank slips a silver band over Alex’s ring finger reverently.

“Hank,” Alex says quietly, gazing up at his _fiancé_ with unrestrained adoration, “ do you know, I didn’t even – until you started proposing I hadn’t thought about my answer but – but you started talking and I couldn’t think about anything else I wanted more in the world.”

“I know Alex.” Hank says seriously. “I know.”

.

 

_viii. actual dances_

“You have to remember to lead-“

“-Alex, we’ve only practiced this a million times-“

“-stop exaggerating and _make sure I don’t fall_.” Alex hisses to Hank as they step out onto the dance floor. Their first dance is some folksy guitar tune that Hank had fallen in love with and Alex had fallen in love with because Hank wouldn’t stop dancing around their living room to it. It’s slow and sweet, and as Hank grasps Alex’s hands he feels his worry leaving him.

“It’s our wedding day.” Hank whispers, pressing a kiss to Alex’s forehead. “Relax.”

“Okay.” Alex says, and then adds, unable to help himself, “You better watch out for our wedding _night_.”

“ _Alex_.” Hank whispers fiercely as Alex leers at him. “I’m no blushing bride!”

“I’m gonna rock your world, babe.” Alex says confidently. Hank rolls his eyes, but obligingly comes in for a kiss and smiles against Alex’s lips.

“Alright Mr. Husband,” Hank murmurs, “I can’t wait to see you _ruin_ me tonight.”

Alex shivers at the husky tone of Hanks voice.

“It’s our _wedding_.” He says. “You don’t want the first dance pictures to have me with a _boner_.”

.

 

_iv. actual bills_

“You could really just get a person to do this.” Alex wheedles as he slides in next to Hank on their sofa. On the coffee table is a cluttered pile of papers. Hank is doing their _bills_. “We make enough money to get a person to do this.”

“We have to take care of our own finances, Alex.” Hank says patiently, holding up a paper and squinting at it. The ring on his finger glints in the living room light, and though its’ been a year and a half a strange thrill still runs up Alex’s spine every time he sees it. “Besides, there’s a possible added expense we have to discuss, if you’re willing.”

“Hmmm.” Alex says noncommittally as he relaxes into the cushions and closes his eyes. “Hit me with it. I’d like to warn you, no matter what you say we’re not setting aside money to build you a plane. That kind of thing is just asking for trouble, I don’t care if you have a pilot’s license. And no quinoa fund either, that stuff is nasty.”

“No, Alex,” Hank says, his voice strained, “I was thinking more of a…long-term investment. In something living.” Alex cracks one eye open.

“Like one of those adopt a cow, feed a family things?” he asks.

“No, like one of those adopt a child, feed it for the rest of its life kind of thing.” Hank mutters, blushing scarlet and looking down at the table, studiously avoiding eye contact with Alex.

“ _What_.” Alex hisses. “You couldn’t think of _any_ better way to ask me then over bills?” Hank shakes his head mournfully.

“What was I supposed to do, get you a pacifier and say surprise, we’re having a baby? I’m not _pregnant_.” Hank says, sighing.

“Maybe go with that next time.” Alex says, grinning. “I like it. More theatrical flair. I hope our kid has more creativity than either of us.” Hank looks up at him, surprised and pleased. Alex stands up, tugging Hank up with him, and whoops with joy as he spins Hank around.

“We’re having a baby!” he sings. Hank laughs.

“You’re aware we can’t _actually_ make a baby, right?” he asks, bemused. Alex winks at him.

“Good science says we should go to the bedroom right now and test that hypothesis.” He grins back.

.

 

_v. actual babies_

No matter what anyone tells you, Alex thinks, babies aren’t always cute. He runs a hand through his gross, messy, ratty hair as he rocks Max back and forth, singing lullabies. Right now, it’s three-forty a.m. and he can’t see his wailing baby as anything less than a demon sent straight from hell.

Hank appears in the doorway, squinting without his glasses.

“Go back to sleep.” Alex instructs, sighing. “You have a presentation in five hours.”

“I don’t know how you expect me to sleep through that.” Hank says wryly. Just last night, they fought over something small – Alex had tripped over a toy that Ada had left out, and he’d gone from pain to flat out screaming at his husband in no time. Hank had responded in kind, and they’d collapsed into bed angry and exhausted – but right now, Alex’s can’t think of a more welcome sight than his handsome husband’s beautiful face.

He crashes into Hank and presses his face into Hank’s chest, carefully cradling their baby between them. Hank’s arms come up to rub soothing circles into Alex’s back. Miracles do exist, Alex decides, as Max’s screeching quiets down to little hiccupping sobs.

“Spoiled child.” Alex says fondly. “Needs both his dads before he even thinks about going to sleep.”

“Mmmm.” Hank says, yawning as Alex carefully places his (now adorable) son in his crib. “Ada and Nicky were never this difficult”

“I think we’re just older.” Alex mutters, his hand coming up to trace absentmindedly at the early greying on his temples. Hank covers the hand and kisses it instead, smiling and kissing Alex more thoroughly when he turns his face up.

“Come on.” He says, slinging an arm around Alex’s waist. “Back to bed, old man. We’ve got years left of this.”

“Together.”  Alex says, pinching Hank’s ass and laughing as Hank yelps.

“All these years, and you’ve still got the maturity of a sixteen year old.” Hank grumbles, rolling his eyes and pressing a fond kiss to Alex’s blonde hair. “Yeah. Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> if anybody has any ideas on what song would play at these idiot's weddings, please tell because I'm blanking on wedding music because I'm an exhausted dummy right now.
> 
> EDIT: [ DustAddsCharacter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DustAddsCharacter/pseuds/DustAddsCharacter) suggested Sideways by Citizen Cope and [LadyKay29](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyKay29/pseuds/LadyKay29) suggested Bloom by The Paper Kites and both are so good and I can't choose so you get to just pretend whichever one you like better is the one that played at their wedding
> 
> EXTRA EDIT: now you can find me on [ tumblr!!! ](http://eversall.tumblr.com/) i know, you're SO excited *sarcasm*


End file.
